Seeing Shadows (12 page)

"Did you need something, Dad?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

My father sighed again. "I got a notice in the mail for the next payment on your tuition. Since when am I responsible for that?"

I cursed the university billing department's ineptitude. I had already told them several times to only send the bills to my apartment, but every so often they would send a duplicate copy to my father, which got him riled up. I guessed they were used to parents helping with a student's tuition. But not my father. He had made it clear that he wasn't paying any portion of my tuition because my diploma from a nothing school like Maxwell University didn't mean anything. Never mind that the bill was nominal since my scholarship covered almost my entire tuition. My school loan plus the money I made at Colette's was enough to cover the balance, as well as pay for my books, rent and other living expenses.

"You can just ignore that, Dad," I said. "You know they just send you the bill sometimes by accident. I get a copy too so you can just throw yours out."

"I don't understand why you can't handle letting your school know not to send me the bills," my father lectured sternly. "Or maybe it's because your school is run by morons. It reflects poorly on the reputation of Maxwell."

"So you can just throw it out," I repeated, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation about the merits of Maxwell University. I tried to avoid confrontations with my father but it warred with the need to defend myself.

"Caitlin," my father sighed. "I really want to understand you. I really do. I'm trying to accept that maybe you just don't have the necessary drive and ambition to become a real success. God knows you take after your mother more than me. She couldn't do anything without me. She was totally dependent. It seems like you're just like her."

I felt pricks of tears at the back of my eyes at the mention of my mother. I didn't remember her at all since she had died when I was so young, and I only had a few pictures to document that I actually had a mother. This was a weak point for me. It hurt me deeply that I couldn't remember her at all. Although I had been young, I felt like I should be able to remember
something
since I was five when she died, not an infant. I kept silent as my father continued.

"Maybe it would have been better if you didn't go to college," my father said. He was starting to really get into his diatribe and settle in. Our phone conversations usually consisted of my father talking while I was silent. "It's a waste of money at this point. I would say that you should find a man to take care of you, but just take a look at yourself. You take no care in your appearance and always seem so drab." My father sighed heavily as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "I just don't know what to do with you. If only I had a son. Everything would have been so different."

I couldn't take it anymore. "Dad," I said, straining to keep my voice void of any emotion so that he wouldn't pick up on any weakness. "Just ignore the bill and throw it out. I'll take care of it. Now I really have to go."

"To do what?" he scoffed. "To go get drunk with Sarah? Is that what you do up there?"

I could feel the tears starting to fill my eyes and I needed to get off the phone before they started to spill. A mixture of anger and hurt was making my chest tight. "I just have some reading to get done. I'll talk to you later, Dad."

"Fine," my father said, sounding disgruntled. "I guess you don't have time to talk to your own father. I don't want to get another of these damn notices." With that, he hung up.

I hit the button to end the call on my cell phone and laid back on my bed, opening my eyes wide to try and will my tears to recede. The conversation could have been worse. Way, way worse. I should count myself lucky to have gotten off with a quick reprimand but it didn't make me feel any better. I tried to avoid talking to my father as much as possible because it just made me feel bad about myself. Intellectually, I knew that my father was damaged and he was taking it out on me. But emotionally, I still felt like a little girl who didn't understand what was so wrong with her that her father couldn't love her.

I banished these self-pitying thoughts from my head and sat up. There was no point wallowing in it. But I definitely was in no mood to socialize. I couldn't face going down there and putting on a happy face. I thought about Simon and Samantha slow dancing and immediately decided there was no way in hell I was going back down there.

I hit number one of my speed dial and heard the ringing start.

"Hi," Sarah said in a hushed voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I replied brightly, hearing the false tone in my ears but praying that Sarah would buy it. "It really was nothing. I just got off the phone with him so it wasn't a long drawn out conversation. I'm just feeling really tired right now. It was a rough shift today at Colette's and I think the beer has gone to my head. I'm just going to stay up here for the rest of the night. But you have fun."

"Wait one sec," she whispered. I heard muffled voices and I could hear Sarah excuse herself. I heard a door close.

"Okay," she said in a louder voice but still quieter than normal. "Tell me the truth."

I sighed. There was no point in trying to mask my feelings from Sarah. "It wasn't too bad, Sarah. Honestly. He was critical, but nothing over the top. But I really don't feel up to socializing right now. Please just tell everyone that I'm tired and feeling a little under the weather."

"Okay, but I'm coming up now," Sarah replied determinedly.

"Sarah," I pleaded. "Please stay down there. Really. It's going to make me feel worse if you leave. Just have a good time for me. I want to be alone anyways. I'll probably go to bed soon. I need to get up early tomorrow to run errands."

"Caitlin," Sarah said plaintively. "How can I have a good time when I know you're up there sad?"

I felt a surge of affection for Sarah. But I also really wanted to be alone. "Sarah, I promise I'm not sad," I lied. "Please, just stay down there. It'll make me feel a lot better."

Sarah sighed. She knew a losing battle when she heard one. I think she also realized I really did want to be alone. "Okay, but I'm not staying late."

I laughed. "I'm not going to make you stay out all hours of the night. But I also want you to have fun tonight. I'll be fine."

"Okay," Sarah said. "But you better call me if you need me."

"I promise I will," I said. "Now, go flirt with Grant."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Sarah crowed gleefully. "See you later, Caitlin. And remember your promise."

"Scouts honor," I replied with a smile.

"Hey!" Sarah exclaimed. "You were never a girl scout!"

I laughed, feeling some of my tension drain. "Bye Sarah."

"Bye Caitlin," Sarah replied. "I'll be home soon."

After I hung up the phone with Sarah, I wondered if Simon would care that I wasn't coming back. I shook my head. He had Samantha to occupy him. And that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe if he got involved with someone else, I would stop thinking about him so much. I felt a pang at the thought of Simon with someone else, but I embraced that pang, knowing the more I got used to that feeling, the better.

I turned on my iPod and put the buds in my ears, choosing a playlist that was full of soothing tunes and closing my eyes, losing myself to the music.

I spent most of Sunday afternoon in the school library. I really did have some homework to get through, but it wasn't nearly as much as I had told Simon. I admitted to myself that it was cowardly to hide in the library, but I didn't want to chance having Simon insist on helping me with my Economics homework.

Sarah had come home early the night before, as promised, and found me lying in bed, still listening to my iPod. She had told me that Simon had kept bugging her about coming upstairs to check on me since she had told everyone I was feeling sick. Sarah had to keep insisting that I had told her I was going right to sleep.

I couldn't help but feel a warm glow that Simon seemed concerned about me, but tried to banish the feeling. Whether or not he was just engaging in a mild flirtation with me, or if he was interested in pursuing more, it didn't matter because neither fit in my world. My world was already full with school and friends and I needed nothing more.

I was sitting in a small study carrel in a corner of the library, hidden by bookshelves. It was the perfect place to disappear. Even after I had finished all my work, I stayed there, listening to my iPod and trying not to daydream, as my thoughts kept drifting dangerously to Simon. I folded my hands on the desk and rested my head on them, trying instead to imagine what life would be like after graduation.

The next thing I realized was that I had fallen asleep, as I slowly opened my eyes and sat up, stretching. The library had been buzzing with students before but now it was eerily quiet. I checked my watch and saw that it was just past seven o'clock. Not very late, but late enough that the library was practically deserted. I checked my phone and saw that I had two missed calls and a text from Sarah. I had turned my ringer off because there was nothing more annoying than a shrill ring in the middle of the library. I saw that her text had been sent about an hour ago.

Are you still at the library? Hurry home. I'm starving!

I texted her back quickly.
Sorry, got caught up with homework. Will be home soon.

Even though we didn't always eat dinner together on the weekdays since we had different schedules, Sarah and I always made an effort to eat dinner together on the weekends. I felt bad for making Sarah wait, and I hurriedly stuffed my books into my backpack, swinging it onto my shoulder, and making my way out of the library.

It was already dark outside as I walked briskly across campus. I stuck both my hands in the pockets of my coat and burrowed my chin deep into the collar, bracing myself against the chilly air. I was waiting to cross the street that would take me off campus when I felt a prickling sense of unease down my spine.

I quickly turned around but there was no one behind me. I mentally cleared my head. I must still be out of it from falling asleep earlier. There was a lull in traffic so I dashed across the road and starting walking down a street lined with apartments. I pulled my earbuds out of my ears and stuffed them in my jacket. I felt like I was just letting my imagination run wild, but I wanted to make sure I could hear everything around me. It was stupid to listen to headphones anyway while walking alone in the dark. I shook my head, mentally berating myself.

As I continued to make my way down the street, I couldn't help flinching at every sound and turning to peer into the darkness to see its cause. The lights from the street lamps made the shadows seem even darker, heightening my sense of unease. The rattling of a crumpled can being blown across the graveled road made me practically jump out of my skin. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, but every time I would whip my head around, there would be nothing to face me except the empty night air.

Feeling a little foolish, I quickened my pace until I was practically running. I was only a couple of streets away from my apartment when I decided that I didn't care how stupid I looked and broke into a full run. As the lights of my apartment came closer, I heaved a sigh of relief and prepared to run full tilt up the stairs when I felt a hand close around my arm.

I let out a blood-curdling scream and whipped around, pressing back against the railing of the stairs and letting my backpack slip to my hands, prepared to bludgeon someone with it, if necessary.

"Relax," a voice said. I felt the hand on my arm fall away. "It's just me."

I peered into the night, brushing the hair out of my face. "Simon?" Now my fear was being replaced with annoyance. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack!? You don't just sneak up behind someone in the dark and grab them!"

I put a hand to my heart, willing it to stop beating erratically. It was thudding against my chest as the adrenaline left my body.